


Making Toast, Toast aka: The Breakfast Crack Story

by Oddfront



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Breakfast in Bed, Crack, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:50:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1866918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oddfront/pseuds/Oddfront
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean falls in love with a croissant and then has breakfast in bed with Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Toast, Toast aka: The Breakfast Crack Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [callmeb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeb/gifts), [MothMeetsFlame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MothMeetsFlame/gifts).



> This is crack, unabashed and shameless crack, for which CallMeB is completely and totally responsible. Her and her porn breakfast...  
> So this is for both B and MothMeetsFlame who told me not to let it take over my life but to step back, and I finally got this crazy fic outta my head.

 

* * *

It’s early, not like three am early, but still the sun hasn’t been up very long and Dean is wide awake. He usually is, a hunters life and all that jazz, only this time he and Sam are definitely not on a case They’re relaxing for a few days, hell they even splurged on a moderately decent hotel. The bed’s pretty comfy - and Dean’s pretty sure he’s in love, it’s king sized, which means more than enough space for both of their six foot plus frames. Speaking of Sasquach sized frames, Sam’s is sprawled all over Dean’s not so Gigantor one; he cranes his head up at an awkward angle so he can see his brother’s face. But Sam’s been stubborn since he was little, and Dean moving around only causes him to bury his face further into Dean’s side. He chuckles silently, the breath huffed out through his nose causes small tendrils of Sam’s hair to stir and tickle his chest.  
  
  
  
It’s a little difficult to maneuver himself out from under his, heavy, giant, clinging octopus of a brother, but the promise of breakfast from the diner a few miles down the road is more than enough motivation for Dean’s empty stomach. He scoots out from under Sam, tucking the covers back over his brother, and heads for the bathroom.  
  
  
  
Unsurprisingly, when he comes back into the main room a few minutes later, Sam is cuddled up to Dean’s pillow, face buried in it’s softness as his arm pulls it tightly to his chest. The sight makes Dean smile, and wishes he could give Sam more of these small, ‘normal’ moments. He quickly pulls on his jeans and jacket, snags his keys off the side table and is out the door, the Impala rumbles awake after a few seconds.  
  
  
  
It’s not a particularly long drive, but it does give Dean time to blast ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’ and drum along loudly against the steering wheel. He’s off pitch, but Sam’s not there to bitch about it. Which causes him to sing even louder, and by the time he’s belting out the last strains of ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’; he parks right in front of the diner door.  
  
  
  
A pretty red head with a great rack greets him over the register; she smiles coyly and moves with him to the bar top. She leans on the counter her elbows rest on the formica top as she asks if he’ll be “Eating in, or…” Her head tilts to the side as she rakes her eyes over him “Are you,” she pauses, just in case he didn’t notice her less than subtle flirting “Eating out?” and then she looks up at him through dark lashes, her arms tight against her sides to purposely push her breasts up and out, quirking an eyebrow when Dean looks at her face. So, what’s a man to do? Dean unabashedly stares at her chest, because hey if she’s gonna flaunt them, it would be rude not to look really; she is begging him to look. Apparently her name is Laila, if the suggestively placed name tag is to be trusted. He gives her a flirty grin and a wink, once he’s pulled his eyes away from her ample cleavage - he’s in love with Sam, not dead. Plus he’s a flirt by nature, trying to turn that feature off is like demanding snow in July. They both know that while Dean’s a serial flirt, he would cut out his own heart rather than hurt Sam like that.  
  
  
  
"Sorry, Laila," he drawls, "It’s to go. You got a menu I can look at?" He doesn’t really need one, it’s a diner, and their menus are pretty much all the same. The only thing different - and sometimes not even that - is what they call the two pancake, bacon, egg and hashbrown combo.  
  
  
  
He scans the menu for the names of his and Sam’s usual orders when something catches his eye. It’s a little surprising, there is no ‘NEW’ sticker next to it, it doesn’t head line a column, or have it’s own little section. It’s just stuck between ‘Bricks’ Breakfast Burrito’ and ‘Griddle Stuffed Cakes’ - Dean sincerely hopes the former really doesn’t taste like its’ name and the latter is just a poor marketing decision, not cakes stuffed with real griddles - was ‘Charlie’s Famous Croissants’. His smile is every bit as brilliant and charming as he can make it when he looks back to Laila. He hands over the menu, fingers brushing deliberately as she takes the laminated paper. Dean thanks her, dropping his voice to make her bend forward again to hear his order, and he enjoys the view once again.  
  
  
  
Dean gently lays the take out bag on the passengers seat and briefly considers buckling it in. The damn thing smells… so unbelievably delicious. The smell is making him salivate so badly that his hands are white knuckled on the steering wheel as he tries so damn hard to resist temptation. He’s trying to focus on something else, anything else when his stomach rumbles. But it’s so. Damn. Hard.  
  
  
  
His eyes flicker over to the bag more than once and he keeps having to force them away. He cracks the driver’s window in hopes that it will help dissipate the intoxicating smell, but with out Sam to roll down the passenger side, the scent is trapped, and the wind just cyclones it around the confined space of the cars’ interior. Dean is drowning in the smell of warm butter and cheese, fried potato and crispy bacon. That little white bag has him so turned around that he can’t even tell if he’s listening to Metalica’s version of Turn The Page or Bob Seger; and that’s just a travesty.  
  
  
  
He glances at the bag, and notices the reason the aroma is so overpowering is because the top of the bag has come open. He grimaces and reaches over to roll the top back down. The split second he took his eyes off the road is all it takes for the Impala’s front passenger tire to hit a pot hole, sending his hand deep into the recesses of the paper bag. It’s an accident, honestly, but his fingers brush against one warm croissant and his traitorous hand snags ahold of one of the wax paper wrapped pieces of heavenly perfection. He stares at his deceitful fingers as they deftly unwrap their prize. The first bite damn near wreaks the Impala. The blend of flavors dance tantalizingly over his tongue before they make love to it, getting stronger and bolder as he chews instead of weakening and fading away. It slides down his throat smoothly as he swallows and rests warm and satisfying in his stomach.  
  
  
  
The croissant is gone far sooner than Dean was ready for, and he licks his fingers, trying to get just a hint of flavor. He’s pulling into the motel parking lot just as his hungry mouth reluctantly lets his thumb slip out of it; tongue flicking over the pad one last time.  
  
  
  
It’s hard for him to set the bag down once he’s inside the room, it feels like a betrayal of what they shared in the car; the call of a sleeping Sam or his extraordinary breakfast is entirely to difficult to choose between. Eventually, his brain comes up with a solution: sharing breakfast in bed with a sleep warm Sam, and Dean slips easily out of his boots and clothes. He relocates the bag onto the far side of his brother on the bed and strips before he crawls onto the it; sliding under the covers and half pressing, half laying over his brother’s body. Breakfast in bed while naked, Dean’s pretty sure that they should make this part of their regular routine.  
  
  
  
'I got breakfast Sammy,’ he murmurs, nuzzling the back of Sam’s neck, ‘Went to the diner up the road and I got us some croissants. Know you like that fancy stuff.' Dean grins and nips at a soft lobe. 'On the way back, they smelled so good Sam, and I was so hungry. Oh, Sammy, you have no idea how good it was,' his moan is practically pornographic.  
  
  
  
'Sam, it was soooo…’ Dean trails off, making a small sound in the back of his throat, that still hasn’t gotten a rise out of his brother yet. ‘The cheese was melted and melded with the egg. The croissant was soft and warm, the breading just on the right side of flakey but held together. The egg was perfectly cooked, a mixture of yellow and white visible with every bite. The bacon, Sam!” He moans his brother’s name, dragging out the vowel, “God, Sammy, it was fo crispy, perfectly cooked, and none of that cheep fast food joint bacon, this was the good stuff. Apple wood smoked, with just the right amount of fat to give it that extra kick of flavor. And then the hash brown was, ungh!’ Dean’s groan is a damn near whimper; it’s the same sound Sam pulls out of him every time his baby brother sucks on the tip of his cock and presses fingers against his prostate at the same time. He licks his lips, tongue briefly touching the shell of Sam’s ear before going on. ‘Hot and crunchy. Just the slightest bit of grease, but not enough to ruin the taste of the barely held together potato pieces. It was perfectly browned on the outside, and the inside was white lines of potato heaven.' Dean rubs against Sam’s warm body, he pushes his thigh between his brother’s, his erection pressed firmly into the side of Sam’s ass cheek. “God, Sam,” He whines, right into the hair at the nape of Sam’s neck, tongue flicking over the skin just under the soft strands, and that’s all it takes.  
  
  
  
Dean is on his back, Sam looming over him, hips grinding his already hard cock down into Dean’s belly; looking for all the world like he’s already been ravished. “How can you be so hard while talking about food?” Sam asks gruffly, licking his lips, and looking at Dean like he’s indescribable in the best ways. It makes Dean a little crazy and he debates, a sarcastic quip or his baby brother’s lips; it’s no contest and he yanks Sam down for a kiss. It’s hot and a little frantic, Dean’s words having riled Sam up so that their teeth clack as Sam’s tongue invades his mouth. It’s a filthy power struggle, the pink muscles tangling briefly before Sam pulls back to bite at Dean’s lower lip.  
  
  
  
“You taste good,” Sam’s voice is still sleep rough and it sends shivers down Dean’s spine; but it also reminds him of the paper bag less than a foot from his shoulder. Dean twists under his brother, reaching for the little bag of awesome. Sam growls, pulling Dean back and nipping at his shoulder.  
  
  
  
“Sammy,” Dean grumbles, snaking a hand into the bag to pull out the remaining croissant. “You have to try it.” He whines as Sam attaches his mouth to the side of Dean’s neck.  
  
  
  
“I have to have you in me.” Sam corrects, settling into Dean’s lap, directly over the head of Dean’s cock. He wiggles his hips a little, Sam’s harness rubbing against Dean’s stomach as Dean’s tip nudges against his ring of muscle. Sam is still slightly loose from last night and with the left over slick and Dean’s come, it slides in fairly easily. Dean sucks in a breath between his teeth, then groans it back out. His baby brother plays a dirty game, but with the anchor of the croissant, he pushes himself up and squirms his way to the top of the bed. He rests back against the pillows and the head board. Of course Sam being Sam, the stubborn little shit; follows him pressing his chest to Dean’s, and curling in close to nose into the short hair behind his ear. “Please, Dean, ‘m so empty,” Sam literally whines as he rubs their hard cocks together and Dean’s resolve is only so strong.  
  
  
  
Dean bites the inside of his lip, his free hand griping Sam’s hip and trying to keep his brother still so he can think. He licks his lips and calms his breaths, it should not be this hard to form words. He brings his knees up to offer some support for Sam and leverage for himself. “You feel empty, baby boy?” Dean’s thumb rubs soothing circles on on the soft skin, slowly migrating to his brother’s lower belly.  
  
  
  
Sam nods piteously, he looks so small and Dean has no idea how; considering his brother is a good few inches taller than him. It has to be the way he slouches forward and ducks his head, the way his dark eyes peak out from behind even darker lashes.  
  
  
  
“Ride me,” Dean growls and Sam smirks, positioning himself over Dean again. “While I feed you.” he concludes, thrusting his hips upward and sheathing his cock fully. Sam gasps, his eyes widen at the sudden and unexpected fullness and it’s Dean’s turn to smirk.  
  
  
  
Dean nuzzles into the side of Sam’s face as his baby brother’s head drops onto his shoulder and takes a few deep breaths, “Jerk.” Sam accuses, on the tail end of a whimper.  
  
  
  
“Bitch,” Dean replies automatically as he thrusts his hips up a couple more times, just to keep his brother off balance.  
  
  
  
It takes Sam a few more moments to compose himself enough to pull back. “That was mean.” He pouts, glowering from under his lashes, and Dean just grins. He nudges Sam back a little to create a bit of space between them. “Should have thought about retaliation before you pounced me when I was trying to be nice and bring you breakfast in bed.” His comment is more of a verbal shrug, something to occupy the space while he opens up the wax paper around Sam’s croissant. Sam huffs at him and tries to scoot closer again; Dean tilts his head for a kiss and Sam takes the bait.  
  
  
  
Dean rocks his hips gently in small back and forth motions as he pinches the corner of the croissant and pulls. The breading tears away in flakey layers while the egg, cheese and hashbrown pull away easily and the bacon snaps. Sam follows Dean motions in counter point and whines when he pulls away from the kiss.  
  
  
  
“Open up, baby boy.” Dean instructs and brings the treat up to Sam’s mouth. His brother opens silently and lets Dean feed him, but quickly sucks on the index finger before it can pull away.  
  
  
  
Dean gasps, his cock twitching involuntarily inside Sam as he watches his baby brother’s cheeks hollow; watches as Sam closes his eyes and moans. It’s such a delicious sound and Dean wants to hear it again, but he’s not sure which stimulation is responsible for it. He tears off another piece of the breakfast sandwich offering it up for his brother. “Thought you were gonna ride me,” he teases pulling his hand away as Sam’s mouth moves in to take the bite from his fingers.  
  
  
  
Sam grinds his hips and gives Dean one of his patented Bitch Faces; the one with a single raised eye brow and one down turner corner of lips and the other corner pursed. There’s even a roll of his eyes just before he lifts up a couple of inches and dropping back down. The face doesn’t last long after that, and Dean is pretty sure he won’t either if Sam keeps up this slow grind. Sam is all warm and tight around his hard cock, clenching and squeezing around him as he moves himself up and down the hard length. Dean groaned as he took in his baby brother. Sam is all sleep ruffled and still warm from the blankets, his eyes hooded, closing on every down stroke when Dean’s cock rubs against his prostate. He enjoys the sight a little longer before offering Sam the next bite. Sam licks at the digits after he chews and swallows, sucking on Dean’s index finger and releasing it with a little nip to the knuckle.  
  
  
  
Dean chuckles and tilts his head back to watch as Sam lifts up again; higher this time before dropping back into his lap. He moans at the slick heat and Sam clenches just before he rolls his hips. Sam leans in, kissing his exposed neck, nosing and breathing in Dean’s scent before he licks and nips at the skin. “More please,” he whispers, softly and follows up with a quick peck to Dean’s lips.  
  
  
  
It’s Dean’s turn to chase after his brother, but Sam lifts up and away so just the head of Dean’s cock is left inside. Dean growls and tears off another bite of the croissant, “Want it?” Sam nods his head and licks his lips, Dean smirks at him; Sammy’s just as hooked on the breakfast treat.  
  
  
  
He offers it up, holding the sweet bread between them. Dean pops the delicious morsel into his own mouth, just as Sam leans down to take it and his fingers into his mouth. His brother whines at the injustice and sinks back onto Dean’s lap. “Dean! I want-”  
  
  
  
“Prove it.” Dean challenges with the quirk of a brow, “Prove how badly you want it.” Sam groans and opens his mouth but Dean cuts him off again. “I have something you want.” Dean holds up the croissant in demonstration and Sam bites the corner of his lower lip as his eyes track the small arc Dean makes with his hand. “You’re gonna ride me hard for it.”  
  
  
  
For a moment, it looks like Sam is going to grab for the croissant as he purses his lips to one side. Dean readies himself for the tussle, muscles tensing; but the moment is over quickly, as the idea is vetoed and Sam just lifts up again. Dean sets the sandwich down on the paper bag it came in, then wipes his fingers on the duvet and wrapping them around Sam’s other hip.  
  
  
  
The pace starts out slow, Sam’s is purposefully being languid and slow; he wants Dean to suffer for the denial of his breakfast. Dean just grins, shaking his head in amusement and thrusting up hard on Sam’s next down stroke, using both the leverage he has with his legs and hands on Sam’s hips to bring his brother down hard onto his cock. Sam gasps, mouth hanging open as he sucks in lung fulls of air. His hands reaching out to brace against Dean’s chest as his rhythm falters and Dean take the opportunity to press deeper still, grinding his hips in tiny circles that pull sweet little mewls from his brothers throat. He kisses up the column of Sam’s neck, nipping lightly at the jaw line and holds Sam firm in his lap, makes his dick twitch inside the tight channel.  
  
  
  
It drives Sam crazy and Dean knows it, his cock pressed firmly inside as it jerks. It directly stimulates his brother’s prostate and Sam struggles to move in Dean’s tight grip. One of these days Dean is going to tie his baby brother down to the bed and make Sam lie still and take every twitch and jerk of his cock. He wants to see if he can make Sam come like that.  
  
  
  
Sam whines and clenches, raking his fingers down the front of Dean’s chest as he bites at his shoulder, his cock head leaving wet trails behind on Dean’s abs. “Dean, please,” His voice is strangled, ragged and thready with pleasure, “Move,” he sobs, “Please!”  
  
  
  
“Anything for my baby boy.” Dean grins as he lifts Sam up and then thrusts hard into him. Sam’s hovering just a little above his lap; his brothers thighs trembling mildly with the exertion as Dean pounds up into him. Dean shifts down a little for better leverage and Sam all but screams at the stimulation. “Dean!” He whines high and thready, nails digging into Dean’s sides.  
  
  
  
As much as Dean would like for this to last, he knows that it won’t actually be long before he’s coming. He’s been pretty close to the edge ever since Sam was fully seated in his lap and eating out of his hand; and he can already feel the tightening in his balls, can feel his body tensing up and the wave of his orgasm swelling in his belly. His skin prickles with the feeling of it, and just like that the wave is cresting, just as he pulls Sam hard into his body. “Fuck, Sammy.” He groans, littering kisses and hard bites at the juncture where Sam’s neck and shoulder meet.  
  
  
  
“Come on, Dean,” Sam groans, one hand clasped around the back of Dean’s neck the while the other is squished between their bodies, fingers firm around his own cock, “Come for me.”  
  
  
  
Not one to say no, especially not to his baby brother; he comes, his arms around Sam’s waist keeping his brother tight to him, he shudders and spills inside Sam. His hips pump weakly, cock still buried and leaking the last of his climax. He stills just holding Sam and enjoying the come down from his high.  
  
  
  
Sam sighs content to be held for the moment before his own need calls to be satisfied, he’s just started to stroke his hand over his aching cock when Dean covers it with his own. Sam whines and turns pleading puppy eyes toward Dean.  
  
  
  
“Finish your breakfast Sammy,” Dean says and eases Sam off him, rolling them both so that Sam’s on his back beneath him. Sam glares, as Dean presses the croissant into the hand that just seconds ago was wrapped just the way he liked it around his hard length. Dean kisses his chest, straying to lick and suck at the little pebbles of Sam’s nipples. He stays there for a moment, just until his brother starts making small noises in the back of his throat; before continuing down Sam’s stomach and over his hip bones, licking and sucking in random spots before moving on.  
  
  
  
Sam takes a petulant bite, only to choke on it when Dean swallows him down and Sam only swallows just so he can breath. He taps his knuckles on the top of Dean’s head, leveling him with a glare that is filled with the promise of revenge.  
  
  
  
“Come on, Sam,” Dean growls playfully as he pulls off Sam’s cock, “Breakfast is the most important meal.” He grins wickedly up at Sam, and if looks could kill…  
  
  
  
Dean licks teasingly up the underside of the hard flesh, flicking the sensitive nerves under the head with the tip of his tongue and trying to hold back his grin. He brings a hand up, wrapping his fingers around the thick shaft, moving it slowly over the length and holding it steady as he runs his tongue over the glands. Sam keens and bucks up, trying to get the head of his cock into the wet heat and whines when Dean pulls away again. “Shhh, Sammy,” Dean hushes, “Take a bite for me.” Dean swipes his tongue over the sharp hip bone and watches as Sam brings the sandwich back up to his lips.  
  
  
  
There’s a moments pause as Sam opens his mouth to take a bite, the look he gives Dean is suspicious. He takes a cautious nibble, then a bite, trusting that Dean won’t pull the same stunt twice. Dean is back on his brother once Sam’s swallowed, tongue laving a long stripe from base to head; the tip dipping into his brother’s slit and collecting the pre-come there. Sam shouts at the motion and Dean has to push down on his brother’s hips as Sam tries to buck up and get deeper. Dean obliges once Sam’s settled back down onto the bed, hollowing out his cheeks as he slides his mouth up and down Sam’s cock; hand covering what he can’t fit into his mouth.  
  
  
  
“One last bite little brother,” Dean encourages after a few more moments, he’s just as ready to have Sam come as his brother is eager to shoot down his throat.  
  
  
  
Sam whimpers as he chews the last piece, barely finished with it before Dean is mouthing at the angry purple head of his cock and moaning around it. He takes Sam in as deeply as he possibly can; the spongy head sitting just at the start of his throat as Dean starts to swallow around it. Sam does scream this time, and Dean can feel his brother’s balls draw up tight.  
  
  
  
Dean pulls back just a little right before Sam explodes into his mouth, and he’s taking everything his baby brother has to give him, loving the hot gush of it in his mouth. He’s still mouthing and sucking as Sam softens, and his brother tugs at his hair to get him to leave the over sensitive flesh alone.  
  
  
  
Dean moves up to the head of the bed again, scooping Sam’s limp and pliant body into his arms. His brother squirms a bit, shifting to get comfy. Sam ends up plastered to Dean’s side, an arm and leg thrown over his waist and a thigh respectively. Dean just grins and kisses the top of his brother’s head.  
  
  
  
“Breakfast was amazing, Dean.” Sam sighs and snuggles further into Dean’s chest, as he closes his eyes and listens to Dean’s heart beat.  
  
  
  
The End


End file.
